Special Days
by Ellarose C
Summary: She was Amy, he was Ivan. Through the ups and downs of childhood onward, that never changes. Russia/fem!America human!AU.


Special Days

They met the second day of kindergarten - the second day, very clearly, because the first day of school was special and the kindergarteners didn't go to recess on special days. They met when he fell off the monkey bars and the kids who saw started laughing, but she ran up and got him off his feet and yelled at them until they went away.

She was Amy, he was Ivan. They spent every recess together, because they had different teachers and didn't see each other in class, but they had picnics in the gravel and he held her hand as she walked on the balance beam and she kept the other kids from picking on him because of his nose or his overalls.

On the next to last day of kindergarten - not the last day, because the last day was a special day - he kissed her goodbye under the jungle gym, then ran away.

They rarely saw each other first grade, except sometimes in the hallways when their classes were going to lunch at the same time or in the carpool waiting area. He would blush and look away from her frantic waving, and then he was gone.

In second grade they were in the same class, but kindergarten was forever ago now, and while they weren't mean, they weren't friends. Not really. She was just another girl now, and he was just another boy.

Third grade, fourth grade, went by. His mom stopped dressing him in overalls, and she graduated from dresses to skirts. She giggled with her friends at sleepovers about how that Ivan boy kissed her under the slide, but they were just babies then, it didn't count. Everyone has one of those boys, after all.

In fifth grade, his teacher finally realized he was hiding intelligence under his shy eyes and tested him into the gifted program. She was already there, happily spending an hour a day making Powerpoints about Egyptians and filling out logic puzzles, and for that brief year, she became his protector again as she showed him the ropes, partnered up. Their kindergarten kiss was almost forgotten, but they were friends again, bonding over egg drops and spelling bee preparation.

Middle school came in a rush for them all, all sorts of new classmates and new rules and new orders. They forgot each other again, twisting to different paths. She joined the cheerleading squad; the boy's PE coach saw his size and immediately recruited him for the football team.

There was a passing of time in seventh grade when he sat behind her in English class and became infatuated with her hair and how she turned her head to the side to answer the teacher's questions - just in time for homecoming and the accompanying dance. He asked her to go with him, and she bit her tongue on a grin and nodded. He (or his mom, really) got her a yellow dahlia corsage, because in the back of his mind he knew that was her favorite color, though he didn't remember how he knew that, and that she hated roses. (He didn't know why he knew that, either.)

They went to a burger place with a few friends before the dance, then got carpooled to the school gymnasium, laughing and happy. When they got there, though, she was swept away by her cheerleader friends, and he didn't find her again until they only had time for two slow dances together. It was nice, though; she was wearing something pretty in black and white, and she liked how much taller he was than her. They didn't move between the two dances, just stood in place with their hands barely touching shoulders and waists in the few seconds between songs.

It was nice.

Her dad picked them up at eight and took him home, and he only had the courage to hug her before he hopped out of the car and ran up to his door.

In English on Monday, she smiled widely at him when she sat down, and he smiled back. When they got a few minutes break during class, she turned in her chair and told him about what a great time she had on Saturday. He nodded, ducking his head. She remembered how bad he'd always been at taking compliments and let him off easy by switching to talk about homework.

Now they were talking, whenever they could, whenever they saw each other, and it made Ivan's infatuation fade. He still liked her, quite a lot, but it was not a crush anymore and he was grateful - he never liked not being able to be normal. She let him be normal, if he wanted, and he relished it.

With high school came boyfriends. By tenth grade she was running through boys like grease, laughing and charming her way all around the school. There were whispers, sure, but it was nothing she couldn't handle, and she was too well liked despite all her faults for anyone to hate her, really - even her past conquests. (She stayed well away from Ivan, though. They liked where they were too much to change it.)

For him, though, it was different. Girls didn't do much for him. They were pretty, sure, and he liked their skin, but there was no one he liked, _liked_, enough to try anything. He had his football team and his friends and his Amy, and that was good enough for him.

They had most of their classes together now, planning their schedules as best they could. They spent time together outside of class, too - something that hadn't happened before - and she sweet talked him into spotting her as she taught herself to backflip and finally got him to drop the scarf - at least, when there wasn't snow on the ground. His mom didn't let her visit without a meal, believing that all of that cheerleading had gone to her head and she didn't eat nearly enough. Ivan thought it was embarrassing, but Amy just laughed it off and let herself be fed - Ivan's mom was a wonderful cook.

Junior year she had her longest relationship yet, three months with their cranky student body president. When it ended around Christmas break it an appropriately dramatic failed dinner date, she didn't drive back to her house, but to Ivan's, surprising him watching a movie on TV with his sisters, tears everywhere and on the verge of throwing the house across the river. All three of them rushed in for damage control, sitting her down in a cocoon of couch, chocolate ice cream, and their expensive cashmere blanket. His younger sister was the one that put on _Legally Blonde_, and the four of them curled together until the tub is empty and her cheeks were dry. She fell asleep sprawled across Ivan's chest, feet on his older sister's lap, warm and smiling in her dreams.

(She woke up when they turned the TV off and saw that the sisters were vanishing upstairs and Ivan had nodded off waiting for her, so she just smiled and readjusted herself over him. When they both woke up in the morning, there was some laughter, but his older sister had called her parents to let them know where she was, and it was nice.)

In senior year, the football team made it to the playoffs. When they won the game that clinched their status, Ivan ranoff the field, throwing his helmet to ground on the way to the cheerleaders, and picked her right off the ground, laughing more than most people in their school had ever heard. She shrieked and flailed, but she was grinning all the same. He set her down on her feet just enough to get a better grip and spin her in the air (part of spotting practice had been flying lessons), grabbing her as she came back down and spinning them both around. That earned just as many cheers from the crowd as the game itself, and they were both sweaty and gross, his hair was matted from his helmet, but it was the best moment of their high school days.

But they went to different universities.

They saw each other when they came back for breaks, but even that got sparser at time went on. They liked each other's statuses on Facebook. He listened to her band's youtube channel sometimes, when he was feeling homesick. She talked about him a lot to her college friends, but in a past tense.

When they graduated, they hadn't spoken in a year and a half.

He got a job with the CDC working with vaccination research. It was good, steady work. She flew around, from startup to diner waitress to New York City librarian to bus driver. She was a flight attendant when they got the invitations from their high school for their ten year reunion.

When they got there, some people were different, some weren't there anymore, but most of them hadn't really changed. They were still recognizable, maybe not by their hair or their face, but their laugh, their style, their way of walking or tucking their hair behind their ears. Amy saw Ivan first, sitting at a table with some of the other ex-football players, and she was struck by how _big_ he was - still is - had always been. He took up more than his share of the room, pulling her to his side by his gravity. He wasn't as shy as he used to be, comfortable in his skin, and it was nice.

She stopped at his shoulder, and he looked up at her and beamed in delight, stood and hugged her without a word. She leant her head on his chest and held him a second longer.

He was just her size.

They tried to catch up, but there was too much, too much empty space between then and now. They went to Starbucks after to keep talking and were still talking at closing time. He tentatively invited her back to his hotel room - his sisters had both left for better things, and his parents were living in a condo now rather than their big, old house. She smiled, one corner of her mouth lilting up a little more.

She nodded.

* * *

{A/N: I have no excuses for this existing other than I wanted it to. Maybe be continued. Eventually. If I feel like it.}


End file.
